Beyond Endurance: An Epic of Whitehall and the South Atlantic

by Nicholas Barker

  If a global rôle was no longer a reality, this ‘achievement’ was by no means the property of one Government. As far back as 1966 Denis Healey had announced that the Navy would never again operate fixed-wing aircraft.

  But the simple truth is that we would not have won the Falkland Conflict if the Review of 1981 had been put into effect. The Government was spared this embarrassment only by a co-incidence of time-scale. If the Argentines had delayed their invasion by no more than a few months our capacity to respond would have been irretrievably reduced. HMS Invincible would have been sold to the Australians and we would have only had two other carriers available, one of which would almost certainly have been in the process of a refit. One carrier could not have been the basis of a feasible force to combat the Argentine shore-based aeroplanes.

  There is no doubt that John Nott had been appointed as Margaret Thatcher’s hatchet man. His brief was not only to cut Defence expenditure but to cut it quickly. In turn this meant that his Defence Review contained sharper cuts for the Navy than the other services. We believed that this had more than a little to do with a personal crusade to dismantle the last vestiges of empire. The logic, such as it was, was of imperial and naval retrenchment. This was not new. It had been the undertow of British policy for many years.

  It was also strange and dishonest that swingeing cuts implicit in the Review of 1981 came from a Conservative Government politically pledged to strong defence. In fact these proposals were more draconian than those of any previous administration. Even Denis Healey had held back from going so far. The Review caused alarm within the Services and created conflicts of emotion and reason for some senior Conservatives.

  Navy Minister Keith Speed had a Dartmouth education and had served as a Naval officer. He was also a friend of Sir Henry Leach, the First Sea Lord. There can be little doubt that he felt divided loyalties and voiced his disquiet at the highest level. It was therefore less than surprising when he was sacked from his ministerial post at the Ministry of Defence.

  In the wider scale of things my dispute was really little more than a flanking operation. Sir Henry Leach was battling for the survival of the Navy vanguard. Indeed what was at stake was nothing less than the Navy as we knew it. But now the battle lines were drawn within the establishment itself. Though fought by memo and inter-departmental discussion the principal protagonists were clearly lined up behind John Nott and Henry Leach. Admiral Leach later summed up the strength of feeling when he said: ‘John Nott’s view was ill-conducted and ill-conceived. It was a vindictive attack on the Royal Navy.’

  It was supremely ironic that John Nott was soon to have the opportunity to prove that a truly balanced Naval force was the requirement for the Falklands. This was what Henry Leach fought so determinedly for, and because the cuts had not yet been implemented, had managed to achieve.

  In his book The Little Platoon Michael Charlton refers to a conversation with Henry Leach. This concerned the withdrawal from the Simonstown base in the 1960s and the retirement of the resident South Atlantic Squadron. This, in the Admiral’s view had removed the credible deterrent to full-scale Argentine invasion. Since then the Islands had only remained in British hands by inculcating in Argentine minds the belief that the Falklands could not be held against a serious attempt by the British to repossess them.

  In this dangerous game the joker in the propaganda pack was HMS Endurance. She was at least a tripwire for the Argentines. This is Michael Charlton’s analogy which he developed further: ‘Both the tripwire and the Task Force were going to melt away. Following these declared intentions of 1981 what was there to forestall the Argentines taking military action if their ambition was not satisfied by negotiation?’

  And Admiral Leach said: ‘In theory deterrence rested on the forty Royal Marines who formed the Falkland Island Garrison. As part of that Defence Review, Endurance the Ice Patrol ship, which is only normally deployed there for half the year, would have been withdrawn and disposed of without relief.’

  Since the 70s the Chiefs of Staff had made it clear that a large Task Force, including aircraft carriers, would be required for this purpose. John Nott did not dispute this, but remained rooted in the insistence that Britain could no longer afford the resources for its commitments. One consequence of this was a need to end the Task Force mentality.

  The Chief of Defence Staff was Admiral (now Lord) Sir Terence Lewin. As a Naval officer, who had served with great distinction, it must have been particularly difficult for him to remain restrained and impartial.

  In June Lord Shackleton asked me to come and see him at his London Office. He was about to speak in the House of Lords and wanted to check some facts. He invited me to stay for lunch and began by talking about relatively minor matters. Suddenly he asked, ‘Has the ship been axed?’ I told him I couldn’t answer that question.

  ‘Do you mean you’re not going to tell me?’

  ‘I cannot answer,’ I repeated, ‘but if you want an answer you’re in a very good position to find out by putting the question in the House of Lords.’

  This meeting led to a subsequent confrontation with Michael Power in the Ministry of Defence.

  On the same afternoon I had been to see Captain (later Rear Admiral) Patrick Rowe. I stressed the importance of convincing those in the corridors of power that we should have another look at the question of our military presence in the South Atlantic. He wholly agreed and brought Nigel Nicholls, then Head of DS5, into the discussion. What began to emerge from that meeting was a strategy aimed at convincing the Assistant and Vice Chiefs of Naval Staff, and the First Sea Lord, of the perils implicit in the Defence cuts. During these discussions Michael Power, then an Under-Secretary in the MOD, entered the office. He was the ‘buffer state’ between the Naval Staff and other ministries and therefore a very important cog in the wheel, particularly in terms of discussions between the Foreign Office and Ministry of Defence.

  ‘I hear you’ve been briefing a socialist peer,’ he said.

  ‘That’s not so,’ I told him. ‘In fact I refused to give any answer to the main question asked.’

  ‘If one of my senior civil servants was found to be briefing a member of the opposition I’d have him sacked,’ he said.

  ‘If that’s the way you feel,’ I replied, ‘why not take this up with Admiral Leach? Perhaps you will get me sacked. But if I go, it will be with honour. What I have been able to talk about within the confines of the MOD has not been discussed with any politician.’

  What followed was forty minutes of diatribe in which I was accused of multitudinous misdemeanours. I hardly made a response, other than at some stage to point to a White Paper (about Hong Kong) of which he was very possibly the author. The paper, I suggested, could well be considered for a major fiction award. This did not endear me to him. And standing my ground only served to make the veins in his neck and face stand out as his mood changed from poisoned civility to outrage.

  I repeated that I had not, in any way, briefed anybody outside the Naval and Civil Service circuit. ‘I was perfectly capable of doing so,’ I said, ‘but to date have kept my own counsel.’

  He didn’t believe me. By the next day he had informed Admiral Cox, various members of the Naval staff, and possibly the First Sea Lord that I had been behaving in a way that was totally unacceptable for a serving Captain. He had also been free with his opinion that appropriate disciplinary action should be taken.

  But the ripples of my run-in with Michael Power were to spread further than this. When I sent my warning signals later in the year, and early the following year, the information was either filed in the waste paper bin or dismissed as ‘that fellow Barker trying to keep his ship alive’. I have no doubt he was one of those primarily responsible.

  That evening I went to the House of Lords to listen to the debate. The question of the possible scrapping of Endurance was raised. It was, inevitably, Michael Power and the Naval Staff who would have to provide the Ministerial answer to their Lordships’ enquiri
es. It was some small consolation that he should be presented with this difficulty. Hansard records how the debate had been conducted. During the course of his speech Lord Buxton said:

  I outlined this whole problem of the British Antarctic Survey in a debate last June and pleaded that we cannot be the only nation to pull out of the Antarctic. Through the British Antarctic Survey we have been a leading influence for nearly 50 years. Would the Minister kindly tell us what is the intention regarding the Royal Navy vessels and HMS Endurance in particular? And is he aware that the British presence and influence in the Falklands and dependencies, and in the Antarctic Peninsula – and therefore our longterm interest in the resources of the South Ariantic – would be placed in serious jeopardy if the intention towards Endurance and BAS has any foundation? I trust that it cannot possibly come about.

  Aubrey Buxton covered most of the key Antarctic issues in his speech. His words were reinforced by Lord Shackleton who also added:

  Obviously HMS Endurance is not a very powerful force although I believe she did send her helicopters when the Royal Research vessel Shackleton was pursued into the Falklands. Nevertheless, the fact is that Endurance is a proper ice patrol ship of a kind that has been used in keeping Danish bases in Greenland. It is therefore not only suitable but a very cheap operation. This really is a folly because we know that a frigate with its thin skin would not be able to penetrate the ice. Such a ship would not be able to visit Faraday, Halley or Signy, or many of the bases. They would have to rely on the British Antarctic Survey ships Bransfield and John Biscoe. These are civilian ships. They are not a Naval presence. And this we are doing at a time when the Germans are building a big icebreaker and the Argentines have a big icebreaker. I shall not even talk about the Americans and Russians.

  Furthermore, HMS Endurance practically earned her keep last year when she towed the Biscoe after she had damaged a propeller in the ice. Towing the Biscoe into Montevideo, a distance of over 100 miles, saved enormous cost and probably paid for HMS Endurance for that season.

  The debate continued through the evening. Eventually the Parliamentary Under Secretary of State for the Department of Trade, Lord Trefgarne, responded. Following the more predictable platitudes he added:

  My noble friend, Lord Buxton, also asked how the views of the Falkland Islanders on any solution to the dispute would be determined. This would be for the Falkland Islanders for themselves to decide, whether by a referendum or some other means. In effectively judging the views of the people the noble Lords Buxton and Shackleton, and also Lord Mottistone, also referred to the decision in respect of HMS Endurance. I can confirm that HMS Endurance will be paid off in 1982 on her return to the United Kingdom following her deployment in the South Atlantic and the Antarctic region later this year. There are no plans to replace her. However, the Royal Marines Garrison in the Falkland Islands will be maintained at its present strength and from time to time Her Majesty’s ships will be deployed in the region.

  Although we had known all this for some time, this was the first time it was officially confirmed by a Government spokesman.

  It was a sad team that retired to the bar in the House of Lords at the conclusion of the debate. I remember commenting to Robin Fearn that I was dismayed that the brief we had prepared for Lord Carrington had apparently had no effect whatever. Robin saw this as the end of the line: ‘When one Secretary of State has rejected the views of another [in this case John Nott rejecting Lord Shackleton] there is nothing more that an ordinary member of either of those Departments can do.’

  ‘Unless of course,’ I pointed out, ‘the Prime Minister can be brought into the discussion.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I suppose that is one option. But so far as we are concerned there is nothing more we can do.

  We were not surprised when it was formally announced that Endurance would be taken out of service in March, 1982, and not replaced. This was seen in Argentina as a deliberate political gesture, a calculated diminishment of British interest in the Falklands. It was for this reason that the decision to dispose of this minimal deterrent was opposed by the Foreign Office.

  But despite Lord Carrington’s protests the decision was confirmed in Parliament in the summer of 1981. Behind the scenes the debate continued but John Nott formally declined to reverse his decision later in the year and again shortly before the Conflict.

  In the Ministry of Defence the argument had focused on the relative merits of Endurance and a frigate which could visit the Islands from time to time. I pointed out many times that a frigate was not a tenable option. Apart from Endurance’s ability to survive in the ice pack, and her authentic multi-role identity, her running costs were likely to be no more than one weapons system in a frigate. If the cutbacks were about saving money, the best case for Endurance was that she was cost-effective. The decision was made, at least in part, on the ‘fact’ that Endurance had little or no defence capability. This too was an inadequate assessment. Apart from Endurance’s useful intelligence fit, she had sixteen air to surface missiles. She also had two (possibly three) gunship helicopters. But the politics of economics frequently defy financial logic. It became clear that the choice Admiral Leach had to make was between Endurance and a frigate. He chose the frigate, no doubt on the advice of John Kerr and his boss, Derek Reffell. And that, it seemed, was the end of the matter.

  Chapter 5

  THE BATTLE CONTINUES

  The British decision was discussed at some length in Argentina. Indeed their two leading newspapers Le Clarin and La Prensa ran articles and editorials on the Falklands in general, and Endurance in particular. The Buenos Aires Herald (the English language paper) was also concerned with the subject. The conclusion of all this newsprint speculation was that the British were relaxing their hold on the Falkland Islands, and this was a clear signal that sovereignty would be handed over in due course.

  Between 1976 and 1981 Argentina was ruled by a Junta of the armed services. This was headed initially by General George Videla. Whatever else could be said of the Junta it was true that the tough economic policies had brought the annual rate of inflation down to 100 per cent. Under the previous President, Isabelita Peron (second wife of the late President Juan Peron) the rate had been 400 per cent. But this success was accompanied by rigid controls. Political self-expression was ruthlessly suppressed by the secret police employing every inhuman method and tactic available. More than nine thousand people are known to have ‘disappeared’ during those years. Many were interrogated and eliminated by serving officers of the armed forces.

  Roger Perkins, author of Operation Paraquat, describes the political manoeuvres in Argentina in 1981 like this:

  In March Videla reached military retirement age and the Junta elected as his replacement another soldier, General Viola. He came to power in a cloud of rhetoric. He spoke of an early return to democracy and free elections. Unfortunately for him inflation once again soared to 400 per cent per annum and his swift removal was engineered by three men of the Junta – General Leopoldo Galtieri, Galtieri’s good friend Admiral Anaya and Brigadier Lamidozo of the Argentine Air Force.

  They used the winter and spring months to plot the downfall of the President and in December, 1981, Viola was forced to resign on the grounds of ill health, and the new leader emerging from these manoeuvres was Leopoldo Galtieri. Galtieri was ambitious but unsophisticated in the sphere of international politics and diplomacy.

  But Galtieri did have many contacts in Washington where he was courted by the State Department: the Americans viewed him as a new anti-Communist ally, easily manipulated, so his succession to power could be exploited to bolster US influence over South and Central American affairs. The State Department sought to extract a commitment from Galtieri that he would send some of his counter-insurgency specialists (with long experience of fighting Argentina’s own home-grown guerrilla movement) to serve in Central America. They appealed to his intense national pride and held out the offer of elevating the status of Argentina f
rom the Third World category to a significant world power.

  The offer was overwhelmingly attractive. President Reagan’s National Security Adviser Richard Allen publicly hailed Galtieri as possessed of a majestic personality. It was all very heady stuff for an army officer with no previous exposure to American hospitality and good fellowship. Galtieri’s ego became dangerously inflated in a very short period of time.

  It is alleged that Galtieri was advised by the Americans to keep control of the army after his succession to power, but to cover himself by ensuring the total support of at least one other member of the Junta.

  Admiral Anaya was the obvious candidate but he had ambitions of his own and these centred upon his determination to advance the interests of the Argentine Navy. A service which had never carried the same clout as the Army with Argentina’s closed ruling military circle. Anaya was an energetic man of high professional competence. He did not like the British. He had served as a Naval Attaché in the Argentine Embassy in London between January, 1975 and January, 1976. He had found it an unhappy experience and it seems to have left a residual resentment. Those who knew him believe he was the one man who possessed the ability and personal commitment to mastermind a seizure of the Falkland Islands.

  This assessment was reported in detail by the British Embassy to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office in December, 1981, and Naval Intelligence Departments in February, 1982. Evidence now suggests that Anaya was setting the wheels in motion at the end of 1981 for direct action against the Falkland Islands but had not, at that stage, informed Galtieri and Lamidozo. There was no immediate need to show his hand. The target date was January, 1983 – the 150th anniversary of British settlement.

  Being a seaborne operation, it would be directed by the Navy and would therefore reflect greatest credit on that service. With 12 months in hand Anaya could lay his plans quietly and thoroughly. It is unlikely that the island of South Georgia came within the orbit of the scheme, or if it did that was no more than peripheral interest.